Chapter: Preparations
Author's Note: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! Let's see if you guys can scrape together five reviews by next Wednesday.
Kenobi-girl1 -- The Force of Ducks?
Tiamath -- I'm about 15000+ words in, which works out to be about 7 chapters. I'm hitting a point where I'm not quite sure what will happen next, but rest assured, I'm working on it.
Kalorna Enera -- That is probably the best review I have ever received. Thank you! I hope I do not disapoint -- I tried to make the Initiates complicated... if you don't see it in the next two chapters, you'll see it in Chapter 6.
Estel-Elf-Lover -- I guess your wish is my command. As long as I have chapters, I'll update Wednesdays. That's subject to change, based on my pace writing. ;)
Okay, all, Read on!
Qui-Gon was surprised to find his Padawan awake by the end of his morning meditations. Obi-Wan was not usually an early riser, preferring to stay aslumber for as long as possible when it was permitted. It was a habit that Qui-Gon was sure he would grow out of as he grew up to be the Jedi he was sure Obi-Wan would be… but this early rising was definitely out of character for him. Qui-Gon could sense his uneasiness.
Obi-Wan stood in the middle of the common room, cradling his mug of tea, frozen by indecision. "Do you think I should check to make sure the initiates meet this morning?"
"Lilia will be early, I'm sure, as she does not trust Maela, and she will make sure that all of her own classes are taken care of." Qui-Gon stepped out of his bedroom, clipping his 'saber on his belt. "Maela, I would worry about. She is only eight years old. No matter how much power she may possess, she is only eight years old."
"Should I check on Maela, then?" Obi-Wan asked. He raised his cooling mug of tea to his lips, and then forgot to drink.
"It would be prudent, Padawan." Qui-Gon picked two ripe muja fruits from a bowl on the counter and retrieved the knife and cutting surface. He began to cut the fruit into bite size pieces for his morning meal. "But I recommend making it clear that you are helping her, not doing it for her. She should get a sense of accomplishment, after all." He delivered these instructions as if they were second nature, nothing to be concerned about.
"When should I check on her?" Obi-Wan seemed to grip his mug a little more, and Qui-Gon observed his nervousness.
"I would check on her during the midday meal, and ask to see her assignment datapad." Qui-Gon took his little bowl of fruit and his tea and moved to sit at the table in their small dining area. "She'll of course be in the commissary, so make sure you get the right initiate." Qui-Gon smiled in a way that Obi-Wan knew he was thinking something wicked.
"What do you mean, right initiate?" Obi-Wan asked, caught off guard.
"Well, with the way you're carrying on, it looks as if you don't care which initiate comes with us, as long as they're prepared sufficiently." Qui-Gon tasted the red fruits and savored them momentarily. "Are you viewing this as one large test from the council?"
Obi-Wan's chest momentarily felt light, and then he recovered from his surprise. "What else could it be, Master?"
"This could be a test," Qui-Gon admitted. "The Council does like to test thing where they can control them, or at least observe them closely. They've done so on our relationship before." The idea of the Council closely observing their Master/Padawan relationship horrified him, and didn't give Obi-Wan any confidence right now. "But more likely," Qui-Gon continued, "they want to see you taking a little bit of responsibility and having a little bit of fun with it. Mentorship isn't supposed to be all regimented work, they're also supposed to be rewarding for both parties."
Obi-Wan quieted for a moment, and slowly moved from his frozen indecision to sit at the table with Qui-Gon. "Is being my master rewarding for you?" he asked softly.
"It always has been, Padawan." Qui-Gon took the moment to look into his Padawan's eyes and reaffirm that. "We won't always agree, we won't always get along, but you are teaching me as much as I am teaching you."
Obi-Wan desperately wanted to know, and knew he shouldn't ask, afraid of the answer. The words jumped out of his mouth, and he was only just able to stymie them. "But what about…"
"We will rebuild. I can't promise it'll be easy," said Qui-Gon. He looked down at his bowl, and realized it was empty. "Come, Padawan, let's spar this morning. You should clear your mind before you go looking for the correct initiates." Obi-Wan smiled briefly at the barb.
"Yes, Master," he said, hiding his excitement. He collected his 'saber from his room, as Qui-Gon cleared his breakfast dishes, and they left the room together.
The Room of the Healing Crystals of Fire sunk down from the promenade level as a series of wide cushioned steps, steps cushioned by deep blues, blue-greens and sea greens, to the focal point nestled in the center – the red glowing crystals. Initiates were fond of the room, with its balance of warm and cool colors, and the heady silence of their first independent mediations. Maela was sitting on one of the lowest steps, close to the crystals, bent over the hollow of her folded legs, hair falling to obscure her face, studying something, ignored by all the other Initiates, save one.
Lilia was early, as Qui-Gon had predicted. She stood on her tiptoes at the top of the room, barely coming in the door, scanning the cushions for her distrusted companion, and finally spotted her near the bottom of the cradle for the crystals. Lilia made her way down the wide steps, careful not to disturb the meditations of any other Initiate, and stood over Maela, trying to be an imposing presence. How dare this just-out-of-the-crèche-snit work on projects instead of meditation! As she watched Maela, eyes flashing, Maela turned and looked right up at her.
"Oh, hello Lilia!" chirped the girl in a stage-whisper. "I didn't see you!" Maela narrowed her eyes, her neck craning to see the older girl. Her choppy locks fell away from her face in disarray. "Are you mad at me?"
Lilia pushed the emotion at the forefront of her mind out; she hoped. "I'm not mad." Good Jedi are never angry, Lilia thought, and so she fought to be serene instead of angry. She stepped back, half to allow Maela to see her better, but also in an attempt to stop Maela's insistent stare. "What are you doing?"
"Meditating," said Maela sincerely. "It's time for meditation."
"No you weren't!" quipped Lilia, the voice of authority. She looked around the room and remembered that it was, in fact, meditation time, and so she returned to the stage whisper that the conversation had taken place in so far. "You were working on a project. This isn't the time or place for it!"
"You sound like a crèche master," said Maela disdainfully. "I was mediating, see?" She held out a circle to the older girl. Lilia took it. It was a honey colored piece of cloth – reminiscent of skin colors – and two gold and green eyes were expertly embroidered hear one end of the hoop on which the cloth was stretched.
"What is it?" she asked. Lilia wasn't used to seeing mediation aids used, but she supposed it wasn't unheard of… she tried to think of her crèche stories from long ago about ancient masters and their methods.
"A doll." Maela began to gather her tiny tools: a pin cushion, a collection of colored thread, and scissors.
"I've never heard of anyone making dolls for meditations," Lilia said. She handed Maela back her circle when Maela silently reached for it. How was this crècheling ever going to be a proper Jedi?
"The other people are getting annoyed with us talking," said Maela, lowering her voice suddenly to an actual whisper. "Should we leave?"
Lilia just nodded, suddenly again acutely aware of the other watchful eyes in the room, including some supervisory Masters. She waited for Maela to stand, and then silently led the way. "Who is it a doll of?" asked Lilia, when she was out of the door. Maela barely waited for the door to close behind her before she answered.
"Master Tahl. She got blinded, but is still a good Jedi. I mean, she helped when the Temple was in danger." Maela took her little pouch of supplies and looped it over her shoulder. "She's a great Master, and I wanted her in my collection."
"Do you have others?" asked Lilia, curious despite herself. This was a ludicrous way to meditate, but she wanted to see what this baby had done.
"I have a Master Yoda," said Maela sheepishly. She reached into the smock-pocket of her outermost robe a produced a tiny three dimensional master and held him out in her palm. "He was the first one I made," said Maela. Lilia took the doll and brought it close to her face, examining unskillful embroidered eyes, tiny robes, gimmerstick and down-turned ears. Lilia noted that Maela's embroidery had improved since her first doll, since the beginnings of the Master Tahl were much more skillful.
Lilia still held the Yoda, but pulled out a datapad from her pocket. "Here's the excuse note, we should go see my masters first."
Maela took the datapad. "This isn't the excuse note."
"Of course it is," insisted Lilia, and took it back. "Or maybe it's not." She put that datapad back in her pocket. Lilia shoved what she was holding in her pocket and stiffened at the same time, frantically searching pockets and running her hands though her hair. She pulled out another datapad. "This isn't it either!"
"Calm down!" said Maela, holding her hands out as if she were holding up an invisible wall. "Don't panic."
"I'll panic if I want to," said Lilia stiffly, and pulled out a third datapad. "Whew, here it is." Lilia looked down at the datapad and then up at her younger companion. "Maybe you should take it so I don't lose it again."
"Don't lose Master Yoda," said Maela. She looked for her doll in the older girl's clutches and took the datapad. "You still have Yoda, don't you?" Lila pulled it out and Maela nodded, lips in a firm line. Maela examined the datapad and nodded again, satisfied that it was finally the right one. "Which way to your classes?"
"Down the hall and that way," said Lilia, gesturing with her left arm.
"The first left?"
"Whatever way I was pointing."
Maela pointed; Lilia nodded. "It's a left. Your fingers make an L when you hold them out in front of you."
They began walking, and Lilia growled a little. "They both make an L. It depends on how you look at them."
Maela broke out grinning, and turned her hands back and forth while making the L shape. The correct letter switched positions as she flipped her hands. Lilia was right enough, but Maela shook her head. "You need to fix that before you start going on missions."
"Yeah, yeah," said Lilia. "Now that way." She indicated a right.
Maela fingered the empty pocket on the front of her robes. "You still have Master Yoda, right?" Maela's brows furrowed and she worried.
"Of course I do. I don't lose things."
"But you just lost the datapad!" said Maela, alarmed.
"Besides the point," said Lilia. "I won't lose Master Yoda, anyway." Lilia held in tightly in one hand, with Yoda's arms and gimmer stick hanging over the back of her palm. Maela eyed her suspiciously, but kept walking. Lilia wasn't sure what to think of this younger girl who was so unconventional, but Yoda was cute enough to forgive that. As long as Maela didn't do anything that made her feel unsafe… they could be friends. Maybe.
